When Two Worlds Collide
by Lizziekat15
Summary: First, as usual I own nothing of TWD. Second, blame Mistyeye for this-she had a fantastic idea for when Rick and company meet Negan-seriously go read it on AO3 under Bubblesbromleigh. Anyway, my mind wandered all day with all the endless possibilities. So here is just one of the many I spent my day at work thinking up.
1. Chapter 1

NEGAN

Negan stood staring angrily at the group in front of him. Dwight had brought back a few of the members of the settlement that had attacked his men. Negan slid his eyes over Dwight, a look of obvious disgust on his face. If Dwight thought bringing these people back would get him off Negan's shit list, he was sadly mistaken. Negan knew Dwight had purposely delayed coming back for more of Negan's punishment for breaking his rules and had just been lucky in stumbling onto these people. It certainly wasn't due to any brilliant tactical moves on Dwight's part. The man was an idiot. And Negan thought he'd taught Dwight the truth of that already.

As Negan stared at Dwight, Dwight attempted a meek smile back- as if to say, look how good I've been. You forgive me now, right? Negan huffed in aggravation and turned his full attention to the four in front of him. An Asian boy, a black woman who looked quite the warrior, a young Hispanic girl who had the look of having at one time been military. And the last one. Here Negan's gaze stopped as he pondered the man before him. Obviously wounded by that fool Dwight shooting him. Very rough looking, filthy really. Hard to believe he had been with the other three-they at least looked like they bathed regularly and ate decent portions. This man looked lean-very close to thin-although powerfully built. He looked half wild, again making Negan wonder how it was this man was traveling with the other three.

Negan cocked his head to one side, studying Daryl. Daryl shifted restlessly, wincing at the pain in his left shoulder. The bullet had gone through, no true damage had probably been done. But he'd been bleeding steadily now for over an hour and he was starting to feel lightheaded. A cold sweat had started to run down his back and it was taking more and more effort to stay upright.

"The fuck're ya lookin' at" Daryl snapped. Best to get over whatever was coming, he wasn't going to last much longer before passing out.

He noted the other three-Glen, Michonne and Rosita-stare at him as if he'd gone mad. They wanted him to stay quiet-he wasn't going to be able to. If this asshole was going to kill somebody, he would gladly volunteer so he could just be out of this damn pain and the others could go back to Alexandria.

Negan smirked at the venom in Daryl's voice. He was no fool though, he could detect the weariness and pain underneath that bravado. He despised anyone who begged and cried for his mercy-despised any show of weakness. This man was a worthy opponent from what he could see in these brief moments. This man would be difficult to break, if at all. The other three-they would be child's play, although he bet the black woman would take longer than the other two to bring her to her knees begging.

Negan nodded and the men holding onto the four roughly pushed them all to their knees. Negan saw Daryl biting back a yelp of pain at being manhandled by his wounded shoulder. He nodded in approval at this further evidence of bravery.

"Alright, so let me introduce myself," Negan said as he strode slowly by each of them, swinging his bat idly by his side. He liked giving his captives a glance at his favorite weapon-Lucille. He liked them seeing the barbed wire stained and flecked with blood and flesh from previous kills. He liked how just seeing Lucille caused most of them to piss themselves in fear at the thought of what might be done with that bat. "My name is Negan-" he began.

"Are ya really, or are ya just another sorry prick claiming to be Negan?" Daryl growled. He was openly sweating now, beads trickling down his face and dripping onto the cement floor he was kneeling on.

Negan stopped and frowned. "What are you talking about?" he asked in obvious curiosity.

Daryl spat with what little spit he had in a mouth that was getting dryer by the moment. "Fuck, every time we run into one of your group we get told that their name is Negan. That they're all Negan. So excuse me if I call bullshit on your calling yourself Negan," Daryl finished in a wheeze. His vision was fading in and out and he blinked his eyes to try and focus.

Negan shot a glare at Dwight. "Is this true?"

Dwight's weak smile faded quickly. "I don't know nothin' bout it," he whined.

Daryl snorted in disbelief. If he was going to die, he could at least take that prick with him. "Fuckin' liar," he rasped at Dwight.

Dwight glared at Daryl and started to approach Daryl.

Negan swung Lucille up in Dwight's path. "Whoa, whoa, whoa Dwight. Did I tell you that you could go over near that man?"

Dwight stood still, fear clearly on his face at the sight of Lucille in midair in his path.

"No, sorry," he whispered and scuttled backwards to where he'd been standing, his eyes not moving from Lucille.

"That's right," Negan continued nodding. "So, this man you've been tracking to bring to me-who has had at least three run ins with some of my men- is telling me something and you tell me you know nothing about it?"

Dwight paled at the question and licked his suddenly dry lips. Negan cast a glance at Daryl and saw the man was clearly struggling to keep from falling flat on his face on the concrete. This would take away all the fun he had planned for the four. Frowning, Negan strode closer to Daryl and squatted down so he was face to face with Daryl. Roughly grasping Daryl's hair he jerked Daryl's face up and gave him closer scrutiny. Daryl's face was washed out, almost a grey color, and sweat was pouring freely off him now. Negan observed the left sleeve of Daryl's shirt soaked with blood and could only guess how much the man had lost. As he looked Daryl over, he noted Daryl's eyes fluttering to stay open and conscious.

"No my friend, you aren't going to die like this. We'll get you patched up so I can play with you another day," he whispered softly to Daryl, his mouth close to Daryl's ear. He nodded at the two men standing just behind Daryl. "Pick him up-gently!" he admonished at their rough rush to hold Daryl up. "Take him to the infirmary and tell Claire that I'll need her to tend to him." At this Negan stood back up and strode back to face the other three. He sighed and shook his head. "I'll tell you what we'll do. You three can go on back to Alexandria. Tell your man there that I'm keeping Daryl here until I decide how I'm going to make you all pay for killing my men. Tell him that I don't want anyone coming here to negotiate, or trade or anything else like that." Negan nodded slowly as he watched the three react to what he had said. "Don't contact me, I'll contact you. In about a week or so," and here he motioned his men to take the three away. Turning he left the room in the direction his men had taken Daryl.

His men dragged Glen, Michonne and Rosita from their kneeling positions and jerked them along back outside. "Get in the back of the truck," one grunted and motioned for the three to get into the back of the pickup they had arrived in. The three did as told, remaining silent until they could be alone and unheard to discuss what had just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so this is a very dark chapter-child abuse and child murder is mentioned. And readers the chapters are only going to get more dark and twisted. I'm experimenting with how dark I can get without making a mess of it. I've been reading a lot of Dynammicsymmetry over on AO3-she is a fantastic writer and can really get deep down the rabbit hole and still make a reader feel hopeful. This is nowhere in her league, but I hope I at least dip my toe in her pond successfully. Proceed with caution.

Chapter Two

Negan strode into the infirmary just as the men were getting Daryl adjusted on one of the beds so that Claire could examine him. Daryl was fully unconscious now, mercifully, Claire thought. She glanced up at Negan as he entered.

"What happened? Where did you find this poor man?" She asked as she began to carefully cut away his shirt so she could better examine his shoulder. She stopped suddenly and her mouth pinched shut as the material fell away to expose a large portion of Daryl's back.

"What is it?" Negan asked, curious at the pained look on her face.

Claire glanced up and Negan was surprised to see tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "This poor man. My God," she shook her head in disgust.

Negan walked around the table to look at what was disturbing Claire. His eyes widened at the sight of deep welts and scars crisscrossing the man's back. He glanced at Claire.

"These had to have been by repeated and vicious abuse-probably starting when he was young," she choked out. "These were made over years of abuse," she continued softly. She wiped her cheek absently and continued to cut away the shirt with even more care than usual. Negan stood stock still, staring in disbelief as Claire cut away larger portions of Daryl's shirt.

"Jesus, what kind of monster beats a child like that?" he whispered.

Claire shot him a look. "This isn't the worst I've ever seen-but it's certainly close," she snapped tersely.

Negan frowned at her. "Why has this got you so rattled?" he rasped. He'd known Claire four years or a little more by now and he'd never seen her upset quite like this.

Claire stopped cutting and ran her hand gently over Daryl's back. "I can't understand cruelty like this. Adults-they can take care of themselves, or should. But children-they're helpless. The very people who should be protecting them are the ones hurting them –for no reason other than that they can. And that leaves scars forever, not just on the skin but emotionally and mentally too. It's just an ever widening pool of despair and depression that never stops." Claire sighed and began to examine Daryl's wound. She realized Negan was still watching her, a puzzled look on his face. "The neighborhood where Tommy and I grew up-there were families, poor families, where we all knew the kids were mistreated but nobody talked about it. We were all supposed to ignore it, because you didn't get into other people's business. But there was a girl in my class-a pretty little girl, so sweet and shy, didn't talk much." Claire began to clean Daryl's wound carefully and gently. "One day Meggie didn't come to school. Teacher said she was home sick. But the day turned into a week, then a month. We all knew something had happened but didn't know what." Claire stopped again, tears welling up in her eyes at the memory. Negan remained silent, allowing her time to settle herself to finish her story. "One night we heard the police had arrested Meggie's dad-he had beaten her to death. Stuffed her into a garbage bag and stuffed her in a trashcan out in the far back of his yard. The only way he got caught was neighbors started to complain about a smell-it had been cold when he'd killed Meggie but then there was one of those rare early thaws." Claire shook her head at the memory. "Her mother had been right there-right there and hadn't stopped it, hadn't gone to the police. Lied to keep him from going to jail. We found out that's why her older brother had run away so many times-he ended up in juvenile. He'd thought Meggie would be alright-they hadn't touched her until he had gone to Juvie." Claire sighed deeply and began to bandage the wound. "He'll need another shirt, like a flannel or something he can just pull one side off for me to check his wound," she continued softly as she slowly bandaged the wound.

Negan nodded. "I'll find one and have someone bring it to you. You'll want to stay with him until he wakes up?"

Claire gazed at Negan in surprise. "Yes, I think I should. He'll be disoriented and upset about somebody having seen his back," she said softly, and unthinking she softly swept Daryl's hair from his face. "I need to clean him up just a bit and then get him settled. I have some pain meds and antibiotics I can give him so he'll be a bit more comfortable," she continued as she began wiping Daryl's face softly with a dampened cloth.

Negan nodded in agreement and turned to leave and find a shirt for Daryl. He would also have two of his men posted in the room just in case Daryl woke up and felt like fighting.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Daryl woke up, disoriented and in pain. He stifled a groan as he attempted to get his bearings. He had no idea where he was, the room was in no way familiar. He noted with a start that he was in a completely different shirt than he had been, and frowned trying to remember how that had happened.

Looking around, he noticed a woman dozing lightly in a recliner drawn almost close enough for him to touch. She seemed to be in her early thirties, pretty, with a mass of auburn curls piled messily on top of her head. She was dressed in hospital scrubs, which did nothing to hide her curves. As he gazed at her, trying desperately to remember how he came to be here, her eyes fluttered open and she gave a slight start at his gaze on her.

She shook her head as if to shake herself awake and stepped toward the bed. "Hi, I'm Claire-I'm the nurse here. You're still at Negan's camp. You were shot in the arm, and I cleaned it up and bandaged it. I gave you something for the pain and some antibiotics as well," she said softly. Daryl realized from her accent that she was definitely from somewhere further North than he'd ever been.

As he continued to gaze at her suspiciously Claire lifted a glass with a straw in it. "You're dehydrated- go ahead and drink some water," and she held the glass out for Daryl to grasp it. He wanted to tell her to get the hell away from him, but realized he was parched and if he was going to figure a way out of this then he needed to keep from passing out again. He nodded and pushed the straw aside and began to guzzle the water.

"Easy, slow down," Claire yelped, "don't make yourself sick," she continued. Daryl nodded and slowed down a bit and then handed her the glass back.

"Thanks," he mumbled as he continued to gaze around the room. "Where'm I?" he mumbled again.

"The infirmary. I know you have a lot of questions, but I'd like to ask you some first if I may," she said softly.

Daryl jerked his chin indicating to go ahead.

"How do you feel? I know you hurt, and you're disoriented, but do you need more pain meds? We have a large supply, so take advantage of it."

Daryl glared at her. "What the fuck for? Why did ya patch me up when that prick is just gonna kill me?" he growled weakly. Claire smothered a smile. He reminded her of some puppy trying to convince everyone that he was bigger and badder than he looked.

"I don't know what he has in mind. But I do know he is intrigued by you. He doesn't go to this much trouble with someone he has no use for. So you've got that going for you at least. Now, would you like some pain meds?" Claire watched as Daryl tried to shift about without yelping in discomfort.

"'m fine," he finally gritted out. Claire thought he must have a very high pain tolerance-then remembered the scars on his back and realized why he refused any pain meds. He was probably afraid of looking weak. Another thing that had more than likely been beaten into him from a young age. Her mouth tightened at the thought and Daryl frowned, wondering why she gave a shit whether or not he had pain meds.

"Alright, would you like some more water? Or something to eat?" Claire continued.

"No, don't want nothin'" Daryl insisted stubbornly just as his stomach let out a tremendous rumble. His face flushed with embarrassment and Claire smothered another smile.

"Well I myself am starving so I'm going to go get something to eat. I'll bring you back something just in case," she said as she started out the door.

Daryl grunted and tried again to sit up without causing himself too much pain. As he glanced around again he noticed the two men playing cards in the far corner. He stopped moving and began to study them silently. If his shoulder weren't shit due to that asshole Dwight he could've maybe gotten the best of them and gotten out of here. Unhappily there was no way he could even attempt that with the shape he was in. That was just one more thing to add to the list he had already made for what Dwight was going to pay for when they met up again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Claire returned about twenty minutes later with a plate piled with fruit, cheese and slices of ham. She dragged a table over to the bedside and placed the plate on it and then drew her chair closer. Daryl's eyes widened at the sight of all the fruit as well as the ham and cheese.

"We're lucky that we have some livestock and some of the men here had farmed before. There are also some folks here that had lived in Amish communities previously." At this last Daryl glanced up in bemusement.

"Amish? Thought they kept to themselves? Figured all of them would be long gone by now," he grumbled as he reached for an apple.

"They decided that wasn't the smartest thing when they got overrun. Those that were left ended up here," Claire said quietly as she played with a grape.

"Ya mean that prick dragged 'em back here and threatened 'em," Daryl snapped back. The two men in the corner glanced over but Claire waived them off.

"I honestly don't know. You may well be right," she replied quietly. Daryl shot her a look of surprise at her honesty.

He gazed at her in silence as he munched hungrily on his apple. Claire kept her gaze on the grape, letting Daryl take his time in taking his measure of her.

"You his wife?" he mumbled at last.

Claire shook her head, an amused smile on her lips. "No, nothing like that. My brother was Negan's cellmate in prison. I was a nurse there. When the world went to hell, Negan made sure I got out unharmed and I've been with him ever since. I've seen what happens to women if they're out there on their own and he's kept me safe. So I'm grateful to him," she explained softly.

Daryl raised his brows at this. "So you been with him all this time," he pressed on.

Claire nodded. "I was at the prison almost three years, then it's been two years or so since things happened."

Daryl grunted, uncertain of how to reply to that. From what he'd seen, Negan's followers didn't seem to have been dealt with as pleasantly as this woman had apparently been. Michonne had told Rick that the day they'd visited Diana she had told them about Negan's punishments for disobeying him-fingers chopped off-or a whole hand. Iron to the face like Dwight had experienced. There had to be something between the two otherwise Negan would surely have mistreated her somehow by now. Absent mindedly he reached for a slice of ham and some cheese, mulling it over in his mind as he chewed.

"Where was the prison?" he mumbled between bites.

"Outside of Boston. I was born and raised in Boston," Claire answered.

"Thought yer accent was odd," Daryl grumbled.

"Well, there is no doubt at all that you are from the deep South," Claire laughed.

Daryl scowled, "what the fuck ya mean?" he snapped.

"I mean your accent is just as thick as mine in a different way," Claire answered lightly. She noticed Daryl had devoured almost everything on the plate and was trying to stifle a yawn. She glanced at her watch. "It's after two. I know I'm tired. Would you like to try and rest some more?" Claire asked, watching him closely.

Daryl shrugged and then winced as his wound objected at the motion. "Guess so, nothin' better to do," he replied drily.

Claire nodded and stood to straighten his bedding. "If you sit up a bit I can fluff your pillow," she whispered.

Daryl shook his head. "No need. Ain't used to sleepin' on a pillow anyway," he grumbled again. Claire nodded and stepped back quickly so he wouldn't feel crowded.

"I'll just be over here in the chair if you need anything," she whispered again as she watched him attempt to stifle another yawn. She was satisfied now that he'd had some water and some food. She'd slipped some pain medication into the food –guessing in advance that he would continue to refuse any out of sheer pigheadedness. She sat back in her chair and pretended to read as she watched him lean back and try to get comfortable. Within a few minutes he was breathing deeply, his face relaxing as the pain medication kicked in fully. She set her book down and stretched out in the recliner to catch a few hours of sleep until his pain meds wore off again.

As she watched him go deeper into sleep, she noted that he was a handsome man although a bit rough around the edges. She hadn't noticed any man in years-no sense at the prison and definitely no sense in noticing any of the men with Negan. They were for the most part homicidal psychopaths. But Daryl-he had her interest. Now she had to wait and see what Negan planned to do with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Claire woke early and began tidying up, waiting for Daryl to wake before she checked his wound again. Daryl had just started stirring when Negan walked in. Claire's eyes widened in surprise as Negan slid a chair over next to the bed Daryl was lying on and proceeded to run his eyes slowly up Daryl's form. Daryl stiffened up immediately and tried to inch a bit to the opposite side of the bed from which Negan sat. Claire pursed her mouth, wondering what Negan was up to.

Negan winked at Daryl roguishly and rolled his eyes toward Claire. "So how did my Claire treat you? She was very gentle in cleaning your wound, and took great care to be sure it was bandaged properly," Negan practically purred at Daryl as he let his hand lie on the sheet by Daryl's leg. Daryl began to flush and cleared his throat uneasily. Whatever he had expected from Negan, it wasn't this.

Negan laughed lightly and waved a hand toward Claire. "She's a beauty, isn't she? My Irish Rose. Face of an angel, heart of gold, an ass like a Christmas ham-so plump and round you just want to sink your teeth into it," he said loudly. Claire started as if she'd been slapped and turned a reproachful gaze at Negan.

Daryl's eyes widened and his face flushed further, despite his attempt to look disinterested. He didn't miss the shock on Claire's face and wondered what the hell was going on here.

"Baby, you've been keeping watch on our guest all night. Go on and clean up, get some breakfast. I'll keep our guest here company until you come back," Negan continued smoothly. Claire shot Negan a glare and turned and strode out angrily. As the door slammed, Negan burst into laughter and slapped Daryl on the leg as if they were the best of friends. Daryl felt the hair on the back of his neck go up and a trickle of cold sweat began to run down his spine.

"So," Negan said, leaning on the bed cozily, "how are you feeling friend?"

Daryl stirred uneasily, trying not to wince as pain shot through his shoulder. He cleared his suddenly parched throat and tried to speak. Negan waved a hand at one of the men who'd been watching him all night. "Hush, let's get you something to drink. Those painkillers and antibiotics can dry a man out, am I right?" Negan motioned for the man to bring a bottle of water over. Negan unscrewed the top and handed it to Daryl, his fingers brushing Daryl's causing Daryl to almost drop the bottle. "There you go, my friend. Wet your whistle. And then we can get acquainted." Negan motioned the man to go back over to where he'd been sitting across the room.

Negan watched Daryl closely, noting the effort Daryl made to control his shaking. He also noted the sweat beading up on Daryl's face and smiled like a Cheshire cat. Daryl had always prided himself on being able to read people-but he was completely lost here. If Negan had been violent-yelling and throwing things and threatening he could have dealt with that-that was how he'd been raised, he knew how to cope and adapt. He tried to slow his breathing down, tried his best to still his shaking and appear calm and collected.

Negan watched Daryl's face closely and saw just how to get under Daryl's skin-he had pondered all night how to catch the man off guard and break him. After seeing the scars on Daryl's back he had reasoned that the man was used to brutality and pain. He had to use another tack to throw Daryl off his guard. He had remembered how in prison the one thing that scared the piss out of new prisoners was the thought of being raped. The thought of being made some man's bitch. Being beaten, threatened, solitary-most men didn't fear these-they adapted and could fight back if need be. But taking a man stripped him of all his self worth, his idea of himself as a man. He had seen men he had deemed unbreakable shatter and become almost catatonic after they'd been physically assaulted. He himself had made sure such a thing had never happened to himself or Claire's brother. Another thing Claire owed him for. And he had no inclination toward subjecting Daryl to that either. But Daryl didn't know that. And sometimes just the idea of it, just the unspoken threat-that would be enough to break a man.

That was why he'd embarrassed and angered Claire into leaving. He wouldn't have been able to do and say what he needed to with her in the room. Claire had a very readable face, she couldn't hide anything and her reaction to his acting would've tipped Daryl off immediately. Best to keep her in the dark as long as possible so he could work on Daryl. Negan sighed-he loved Claire like a sister, respected her and protected her not because of some promise to her brother but because he liked having her around-she was one of the rare people he'd met who could temper his dark moods. He would have to do something immense to make this up to her.

Negan's eyes ran over Daryl again and he smiled. If Daryl behaved, maybe he could give him to Claire. He smiled wider at the thought of it, and Daryl felt his heart freeze at the speculative look on Negan's face.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Negan stood up smoothly and gracefully leaned over Daryl, lightly touching his shoulder. "I suppose I should have a look at this, see how well my Claire took care of you," he said softly as he began to pluck at Daryl's shirt. Daryl stiffened even more and bit his lip in anxiety.

"'m fine," he rasped, trying to twist away from Negan's grasp.

"Now, now-no need to be shy," Negan crooned softly as he tightened his grip on Daryl's arm. "I already saw your back when Claire was cleaning your wound last night," he continued, watching closely as Daryl flushed with embarrassment. "She was quite moved-shed some tears at the sight of such cruelty. Claire has a soft heart for those that are mistreated and abused. If you were a puppy she would have bundled you up and let you sleep with her in her bed all night," and here Negan huffed out a laugh and shook his head in bemusement. "So you see, no need for false modesty with me. And your secret is safe with me. And Claire," he added, satisfied at the sight of Daryl's clenched fists and his bitten lip. "Come along now, Daryl, you must help me out a bit with this-unless of course you would like my men there to come and assist us in taking your shirt off."

Daryl shook his head silently and averting his eyes from the sight of Negan he allowed Negan to pull the shirt off his wounded shoulder and push him slightly forward to examine it. Negan watched Daryl as he ran his hand lightly over Daryl's back-Daryl's skin was jumping under his fingertips and he could see beads of sweat form as well. Negan smiled, he had been right about this. Humiliation would be the key to getting the information he needed from Daryl.

Daryl fisted the sheets desperately, his breath coming faster in agitation. He had never had anyone touch him this way-no woman and certainly no man. His brother had told him tales of what happened to men in prison-how to keep themselves safe they let another man use them. Merle claimed it had never happened to him, but Daryl had often wondered if maybe when Merle had been in juvie one of his first few times something had happened. Just how he he'd acted when he'd come home-didn't like anyone coming up behind him, started and flung off anyone's touch, how angry and abusive he was whenever he saw any man he deemed "queer".

Daryl flinched at Negan's touch, and tried to quell the panic he felt washing over him. He knew in the shape he was in he would not be able to fight Negan, much less Negan and his two goons. Daryl squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip to stifle an involuntary whimper as Negan began to peel away the bandage and examine the wound.

"Ah, my Claire did well as usual. This looks like it will heal well, leaving just a little scar. But then with all the others on your back here, what's one more, eh?" Negan chuckled amiably as he ran his hand lightly over the scars on Daryl's lower back. Daryl jerked involuntarily and gasped at the touch of Negan's fingers on the scars on his lower back. The last person who had touched him there had been his Pa when he'd made those scars.

Negan stepped back suddenly and crossed his arms over his chest. Daryl struggled to pull the shirt over his wounded arm and raised haunted eyes toward Negan. Negan noted Daryl had bitten his lip bloody.

"So, since you're going to be my guest here I believe we should make you more comfortable. How about a bath and a shave, eh? And some clean clothes. And then a proper breakfast with me, if you feel up to it of course." Before Daryl could reply, Negan nodded at the two men standing. "Lead our guest down to the sauna and bath house, would you?" Looking back at Daryl, Negan smiled. "I'll send one of my girls to assist you. It's always nice to relax in a warm tub and have a woman wash your hair and scrub your back. I'd let you have some of my good whiskey and a cigar, but it's early yet and you're on medication. Claire would be upset if I did that," here Negan chuckled and rolled his eyes as if to say, women, what can you do? He waved the two men over and began to stride toward the door. "Now, you enjoy that bath and I'll see you shortly for breakfast. We can go over some things then," and he winked at Daryl and exited.

Daryl felt as if he was going to double over and vomit anything he'd ever eaten. His skin crawled and he was still trembling –he knew without a doubt that he'd rather be beaten, tortured or killed than ever have that man touch him again. He stood up shakily and with the two men flanking him walked out of the room and down a hall to where he supposed he'd be taking a bath.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The men stopped after leading Daryl down a few halls. From what Daryl could gather, this place of Negan's looked like at one time it had been some kind of apartment building or nursing home for rich people like he'd read they had in Atlanta. Old people with money living in a place with a cafeteria, barber shop, nurse and doctors on call but still had their own apartments. The room he entered looked like it might have been some sort of therapy room-there were a couple of whirlpools, he could see an indoor pool through another doorway, some weight machines and treadmills. There was also a couple of old fashioned claw foot tubs fixed up like he'd seen in old Western movies-where the cowboys would come off the trail and wash up and get shaved.

The men nodded at a woman sitting in a corner and as she approached Daryl realized she was the woman he had met in the woods with Dwight. The bitch who had stolen his bow and bike with Dwight. As he realized who she was, she realized who he was and stopped in her tracks.

"What the hell?" she spat out.

The men with Daryl shrugged. "Negan said clean him up and get him dressed in decent clothes," grumbled the bigger of the two.

The woman shook her head. "Not him," she snapped.

Daryl huffed in disgust. "Fuck, yer the one stole from me ya bitch," he snarled.

The larger men let out a chuckle. "Well, Honey, looks like you two don't need no introduction. Best get on with it, and don't try slitting his throat or anything stupid. We'll be right here keeping an eye on you," he snapped.

Daryl felt himself tense up more than he already was. Bad enough this bitch was supposed to clean him up, now these two assholes were going to watch? He shook his head and started stepping back when the other man jabbed him in the back. "Not so fast. Negan wants ya cleaned up-yer gonna get cleaned up. Ya don't wanna cross him any more than ya already have. Trust me, we ain't interested in watchin' ya-we're just gonna keep an eye on her so she don't slit yer throat. We don't really care if she does-but I don't want the man pissed at me for lettin' her." He pushed Daryl forward and pointed at the woman. "Get busy and get to it," he grumbled.

Daryl stood there uncertain of what to do next. He had not been naked –fully naked-in front of anyone, man or woman, since he'd been very young. The rare fucking he'd done had been in the backs of bars or back of cars and that didn't require but the removal of the bare minimum of clothing. Two years on the road with his group and he'd managed to keep what little modesty he had intact-the others in his group had long been used to changing and washing up in front of each other. Not to mention Maggie and Glen often going at it like rabbits. His reluctance to reveal his scarred and battered body had been one main reason he'd remained so filthy most of their journey.

As he stood there trying not to panic, the woman huffed out a breath and turned to one of the tubs. Bending over she turned the water on to run and motioned Daryl over. "C'mon, shuck those filthy clothes off and get in," she snapped. Daryl hesitated and the woman frowned. "What the fuck? It's just a bath-altho you do look like you avoid bathing on any kind of regular basis. Yer just about as filthy as last time I saw ya," she grumbled.

Daryl shook his head. "Don't need no help, can do it myself," he gritted out. He could feel himself flushing and his heart speeding up with the anxiety of the whole situation.

The woman threw her hands up in disgust. "I'm not doing this cuz I want to. I've got my orders, just like you. So quit fucking around, strip off your clothes and get in the damn tub," she snapped, her voice rising.

Daryl shook his head again and the woman started over toward him angrily. As she reached to grab his wounded arm, the door flung open. She dropped her arm and Daryl turned to see who the hell else had come in here.

Claire stood frowning at the scene. "What in the hell is going on here?" she yelled. Daryl's eyes widened at this. "This man has a gunshot wound you idiot. He doesn't need you grabbing and yanking him around," she continued more quietly. She crossed the room toward Daryl and the woman and glared at the woman.

To Daryl's surprise the woman backed off and blushed with anger. "Just following orders," she mumbled.

Claire snorted in derision. "When have you ever?" she snapped again. The woman clenched her fists and glared back at Claire. "Go on and get out of here. This man is my patient and I'll make sure he gets cleaned up. I wouldn't trust you to clean a kitten, you idiot," and Claire waived at the two men to get the woman and themselves out of the room.

Daryl felt his legs get wobbly and wondered if he'd pass out again just to add to the humiliation he already felt.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When the door closed behind the men and the woman, Claire quickly led Daryl to a bench and helped him sit down. She fussed and fretted as she gingerly pulled the shirt away from his wounded shoulder and examined it very carefully for signs of fresh bleeding. Seeing none, she sighed and nodded at Daryl.

"Well it doesn't look like any bleeding has started up again. You'll just have to be very careful cleaning up," she murmured as she set out soaps and shampoos and towels on a bench she dragged over to the tub that had filled with water.

Daryl flinched, thinking now he'd have to undress in front of Claire. Turning, she saw his face and frowned. Then she realized what he was thinking. "No, I'm not going to clean you up. You're capable of doing that yourself. I'll just make sure you get in and out of the tub safely and I can wash your hair if need be-I don't think your arm is going to tolerate that type of movement just yet. But no, you don't have to undress in front of me or any of that. I'll be here but I'll keep my back to you so you have some privacy," she finished and walked over to another bench and sat with her back to Daryl.

He sighed in relief and slowly began to peel his layers of clothing off. No sense in trying to get out of this-he was lucky it was Claire in here instead of that bitch and those two assholes. He sat to shuck off his pants and socks and as he stood to drop his boxers, a thought occurred to him.

"How did ya know I was here?" Daryl rasped.

Claire sighed. "Negan came and told me he'd sent you to clean up. I was furious-you're in no shape to be manhandled by those two idiots or that stupid girl. He told me that I could oversee things as long as I made sure you were in fact cleaned up," and she sighed again.

Daryl frowned in confusion. What the hell did she care if anyone manhandled him? As if hearing his thoughts, Claire spoke. "You're my patient. I take pride in the care I give my patients," she murmured.

Daryl carefully eased himself into the hot water and gazed over at Claire thoughtfully. He hummed as the warm water eased the tension in his muscles and he grabbed some soap with his good hand and began to lather up a cloth. As he went to work scrubbing the dirt and sweat off his body, he thought about how he could go about asking Claire about Negan's behavior. He didn't want to outright ask her if Negan liked men, but he couldn't think of a better way to get the answer he needed.

Glancing again at her back, he cleared his throat nervously. "Um, mind if I ask ya sumthin'?" he rasped.

"No, go ahead," Claire answered back.

Daryl took a breath to steady himself as he thought of how to ask. "Um, Negan…does he…does he have a wife? I mean if you're not his wife." He shook his head in disgust with himself at how stupid he sounded.

Claire made a sound of confusion. "What?"

He cleared his throat again. "Um, most guys like him seem to like to have a kinda harem-they take other guys women –kinda like makin' a point of the fact that they're the one in charge. Whenever we've run into any of his group there's not any women we've seen. 'Cept that bitch that was in here before." He raised a thumb to his mouth to tear at the skin while waiting for an answer.

Claire shrugged her shoulders. "Yes, I guess he does kind of have a harem. I never thought much about it really. I try not to get involved in anything too much honestly. I admit that sounds very cowardly-but there it is. I don't want to know too much-that way I can sleep at night. Selfish I know, but there it is." She made a sound of disgust. "I'm not brave like you and your group apparently are. Out there making the world your own. I hope I never have to go outside these walls and see the things I saw before we found this place."

Daryl nodded, thinking. Claire might not be any help to him as far as information, but she might be able to keep Negan from doing any worse than he'd done today. He just had to think how to do this-he wasn't good at manipulating people, or hiding his feelings.

There was a knock on the door and Claire started then walked over and opened it. "Negan wants to know how much longer? He wants to have breakfast with this guy." Daryl heard a voice he hadn't heard before questioning Claire.

Claire turned to look at Daryl. "Another half hour or so, then I'll bring him to Negan's dining room," she replied and shut the door briskly. "Guess we better get moving," she said as she crossed back to her bench. "Can you wash your hair or do you need me to help?" she asked as she sat down.

Daryl tried raising his wounded arm and immediately regretted it. He bit back a yelp and Claire rose and crossed over to the tub. She dragged a stool over closer to the tub and turned the water on again for the shower hose. "Lean forward a bit and I'll get your hair washed," she murmured. Daryl felt the spray of warm water hit his head and hesitantly leaned forward a bit. As Claire began to work some shampoo into his hair, he tensed up. No one had washed his hair for him since he was very young. That someone would willingly do so was bewildering to him. He had long thought of himself as someone beneath contempt, someone nobody normal would want to speak to, much less touch. The fact that she'd cleaned and dressed his wound-thus seeing his back and all that inferred made him less anxious than he normally would have been-although he was still tensed up at the thought of someone touching him. He felt his breath catch in his throat at Claire's gentle yet firm touch on his scalp, and although he didn't truly relax he had to admit to himself it did feel nice-all that massaging getting all the grit and filth out of his hair. Claire soaped his hair up twice and rinsed quite a while before she gave a satisfied hum and turned the water off.

"There, all done. Can you get out of the tub alright?" At Daryl's nod, Claire turned around on the stool so her back was to Daryl. He hesitantly stepped out of the tub and grabbed a large towel left on the bench and began to slowly dry off. He admitted to himself he did feel better having gotten clean of all that grime and sweat and dirt. As he dried off, he looked about for some clothes. He cleared his throat and Claire half turned toward him. He halted as her eyes met his, clutching the towel around him loosely with his good hand.

Claire felt herself blush as she watched Daryl do the same. She couldn't help but notice how lean and powerfully built he was. Almost a different person really once he was cleaned up. She realized she was staring and blushed deeper and turned back around quickly.

Daryl felt completely at a loss for words. No woman had ever looked at him like that-like she liked what she saw. He cleared his throat again. "Um, I need some clean clothes," he stammered. He cringed at how he sounded like a complete dumb ass.

Claire sprang up and walked rapidly to another doorway. "Of course, I wasn't thinking," she stammered out and Daryl raised his eyebrows at her seeming loss of composure. Momentarily she returned with some boxers and scrubs. She shrugged. "Sorry, this is all that's in there. You need a button down shirt so you don't hurt your shoulder," she trailed off as she found herself stammering and blushing again.

"'s alright," Daryl mumbled and dressed quickly while Claire's back was turned. Claire turned to face him as he bit back a yelp as he struggled to pull his shirt over his head.

"Here, let me help," she said as she stepped closer to help him pull the shirt over his head. After wrestling to get his arm through without straining it, they found themselves chest to chest with his shirt bunched up around his ribs.

Daryl found himself noticing the freckles lightly dusting her nose and cheeks, how long and dark her lashes were, how soft and plump her lips were. He found himself breathing in her scent-vanilla, and something spicy and musky.

They both jumped apart slightly as a knock rapped on the door again. The door swung open and Negan strode in. "Claire, I know he's your patient-but he's my guest. I really must insist that he join me now for breakfast," he purred and smiled broadly at Daryl. Daryl again felt the hair on his neck rise and his gut clenched. Claire nodded and stepped away. Negan put his hand on Daryl's good arm. "I'll make sure he is back in his bed to rest up and recover in just a bit. But first we need to get better acquainted over breakfast," he continued smoothly and began to lead Daryl away.

Daryl's skin crawled at Negan's touch, and he wished desperately that Claire would join them-maybe that would keep Negan on his best behavior if she were there.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Negan talked away as he led Daryl to his private quarters, pointing out various rooms and their functions. Asking Daryl how Alexandria was set up and how many people lived there. Daryl found himself barely able to keep his mind on the conversation, his skin crawling at the feel of Negan's hand on his uninjured arm and the way Negan's eyes roamed over his body each time they stopped at a doorway.

At last they came to Negan's opulent rooms-Daryl realized it must have been the director's suite or something like that at one time. There was a large living area, with a massive dining table by French doors onto some type of courtyard. Negan led Daryl to a seat at the table, holding the chair for him before seating himself to Daryl's right. A man immediately appeared and Negan told him to bring out breakfast.

"I hope you have an appetite. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and I like to have a variety of items to choose from," Negan continued pleasantly, seemingly oblivious to Daryl's unease. Daryl groaned inwardly as he looked down at the fine china, multiple forks and spoons and knives at the sides, two or three expensive looking glasses in front of him. He was ill at ease eating in front of Aaron and Eric even after having dined with them multiple times. He had no idea what to do with all this silverware and glasses. Trust his luck to be held hostage by some psychotic with manners.

Three men came out bearing covered trays and set them in front of both Negan and Daryl. Lifting the lids they revealed scrambled eggs, bacon piled on another platter and biscuits on the third. A man left and came back with a bowl of gravy as well as small jars of jellies and pats of butter. He left again and brought back a pitcher of some type of juice and a carafe of what smelled like coffee. Daryl noticed now there was bowl of sugar and cream on the table as well as fruit-cantalope and strawberries and blueberries. His mouth watered at the sight and smell of all the food. His group had been eating much better since they'd arrived at Alexandria, better than they had since they'd left the Greene farm-but nothing like this. So far he'd seen fresh fruit, cheese, ham, and now eggs and biscuits and bacon. His stomach betrayed him with rumbling and Negan laughed and waved his hand at the platters.

"Sounds like you're hungry, Daryl. Help yourself, dig in," he said cheerfully as he spooned eggs onto his plate.

As hungry as Daryl was, the thought of trying to swallow any of that food with Negan watching him made his throat close up in protest. Seeing his hesitation, Negan motioned one of the men to fill Daryl's plate –small portions to start Daryl was relieved to see. Gritting his teeth, he shakily forked some eggs and took a bite. As he chewed, he realized unhappily that he might as well be eating dirt for all he could taste them over the bile threatening to rush up his throat. He concentrated on his breathing, and decided to take small bites and just swallow them as best he could.

Negan watched Daryl and bit back a smile at Daryl's obvious unease. "So, Daryl," he said suddenly and Daryl nearly choked on his mouthful of eggs. Negan briefly touched Daryl's hand holding his fork as it lay on the table. Daryl's hand jerked involuntarily and he had to will himself not to jerk his hand completely away. "How long have you been at Alexandria?"

Negan leaned his chin on his left hand and gazed at Daryl with his full attention. Daryl flushed more deeply and his knee began to bob up and down nervously. He cleared his throat, and thought about drinking something but hesitated, sure his hand would shake so badly he'd spill it all over the table.

Daryl cleared his throat yet again and tried to think of what he could say without revealing very much at all. "Almost a year or so," he mumbled, pushing his eggs around aimlessly on his plate-anything to hide the growing tremor in his hand.

Negan nodded pleasantly. "And where were you before you arrived at Alexandria?" he persisted.

Daryl rolled his shoulder. "Started in Atlanta, stayed a bit at a farm, then a prison. Never anyplace very long before we got overrun," he gritted out.

Negan nodded again. "And when you say we, who do you mean? You were in a group, traveling all this time toward Alexandria? Who was in your group?"

Daryl hesitated, trying to think how to answer without giving Negan any real idea of how many there were in his group. "mmmmm, we lost some and gained some and lost some of them too. Just a few of us left that started out from Atlanta now," he mumbled.

Negan shook his head. "It's a shame, isn't it, how many people have been lost to us since this all began?" He drank his coffee thoughtfully and sighed. "Yes, a shame. Hopefully your group won't lose any more members now." He smiled coldly and winked at Daryl, causing Daryl to clench his fork to keep from dropping it.

"What the fuck are you up to?" Daryl at last spit out.

Negan chuckled and shook his head in approval. "There's the spirit! I thought you looked like you had a bit more backbone than those other three you were with-although that woman with the dreadlocks looks she can hold her own….still you seem more of a scrapper than them. Like you've had to fight hard all your life, and I respect that. Your life before probably wasn't much different than the way things are now-except for the walkers of course. You probably had to scramble for a roof over your head and food to eat…." Negan paused a moment and ran his eyes slowly over Daryl's face. Daryl felt himself grow still. He knew now how some of those rabbits he'd hunted felt.

Negan leaned forward a bit and his hand hovered near Daryl's hair, as if to push it out of his eyes. Daryl jerked back in reflex and dropped his fork, his heart pounding in his chest. Negan smiled at Daryl. "Now, now. I can make things very nice for you here, while you're my guest. You just need to relax and realize that there isn't anything you can do to prevent me from doing anything I want with you." Negan paused a moment to let that sink in. He was gratified to see the color drain from Daryl's face. "You think about that. And if you're smart, you'll give me the answers I want when I ask you questions. Otherwise," and here he shrugged casually.

Negan rose and clapped his hands. The three men entered immediately. "You can clear the table, I have had my fill and I believe my guest has lost his appetite," and he laughed loudly. Clapping Daryl's back heartily, Negan began to stride toward the door. "I'll fetch Claire to take you back to the infirmary Daryl. I'll let you think about what I've said and I'll send for you later," and with that he took his leave of the room.

Daryl clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stop shaking and slow his breath down.


	10. Chapter 10

May 9, 2016

Hello readers! I just wanted to first apologize for having been so tardy in posting new chapters to my stories the last couple of weeks. I do have an explanation though…

Another writer on this site and on Archive Of Our Own-she goes by both Mistyeye and bubblesbromleigh-and I are collaborating on a novel. This is not a fanfiction novel, but is in fact a fiction novel taking place in England during WWII. The inspiration for the novel was Norman Reedus-we are both fans of his beyond TWD and began bouncing ideas off each other as to what type of role would let him really show off his acting chops.

This novel is the result of our brainstorming and collaboration. We have a page on FB-MistyKat Productions, have started a GoFundMe page for startup and research expenses and hope to have our novel published as an ebook by December of this year at the latest.

I hope you can visit our FB page and like and share it with your friends. I'll be posting more regularly hopefully to my works already in progress here on Fanfiction and as always I am grateful for your reviews, suggestions and encouragement and your patience while waiting for updates.

Fingers crossed!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

When Claire entered the dining room, she immediately noticed Daryl's ashen complexion and she hurried over to where he sat. "Are you alright? Does your arm hurt worse?" she asked anxiously.

Daryl nodded. Best to let Claire think his arm hurt than to know what he thought Negan had been threatening him with. Best to keep that to himself until he had time to think more about it.

Claire helped Daryl up from the chair and had him lean against her as she slowly walked him the short distance back to the infirmary. Daryl silently thanked whatever God there was left now that she was silent the whole way back. At this point his head was starting to pound and he didn't think having to answer any questions would help his nerves any.

Claire helped him to the bed and then fussed over getting him settled. "I think you should take some pain meds, Daryl. And you need to rest. You really shouldn't have had to go through all that," and here she stopped and fell silent, her mouth pursed in anger.

Daryl shook his head. He didn't want to be knocked out if Negan came in again to "visit". He needed to keep his wits about him no matter how his shoulder hurt.

Claire sighed. "Would you take some if I promise to stay here with you? I'll make sure no one comes in and disturbs you," she offered softly.

Daryl raised a brow at this. "What the fuck do ya care if someone bothers me?" he snapped. The idea of Claire guarding over him while he slept brought up images of his brother calling him a pussy….yet again. He immediately regretted how he'd sounded at the look on Claire's face.

Claire blushed at Daryl's rejection of her offer and she started to drift away toward the door. The thought of being left in here alone for hours, waiting for Negan or somebody else to come visit him made his heart clench up in his chest.

"Claire," Daryl gritted out.

Claire turned and waited.

"M sorry, got no manners. Thanks for everything you've done fer me. If ya don't mind stayin' that'd be okay." Daryl bit his lip and winced realizing he'd bitten it just about raw.

Claire nodded and slowly dragged a chair over to the bed. "I'll just read here while you rest," she murmured and reached for a book lying on the table. Daryl nodded as she sat down and closed his eyes to think about how in hell he was going to get out of this.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Claire sighed. She had sat beside Daryl for the last two hours watching him pick listlessly at his food before he shoved it away and leaned back again, his back to her. He refused to meet her eyes, or answer her questions. They were at an impasse. She couldn't force him to tell her what had happened, and she certainly couldn't go to Negan and demand he tell her what he was up to.

As she gazed at Daryl's back she realized the only way to keep him safe would be stick to his side like the proverbial bur. She didn't trust anyone in this place enough to confide in them her fears. She would just have to find a way to never leave Daryl's side long enough for Negan to hurt him. And just how in the world she would accomplish that was beyond her imagination.

Daryl lay with his back to Claire, furious with himself for letting Negan see his fear and get the best of him. At the same time he couldn't stop the slight tremors that still occasionally ran through him from that fear and those dark memories Negan had dredged up. Not that they were ever that deeply buried. Most nights he relived some version of his old life in his dreams. Those memories were the reason he volunteered for night watch on the walls-he didn't sleep well during the day but at least the dreams weren't as vivid or as often as they were at night.

He sighed and shut his eyes tightly. He couldn't risk hurting his family by blurting out anything important to Negan in a moment of fear. And he knew if Negan kept touching him the way he had been, he would break and blabber anything to keep Negan from doing more than touching him.

Claire watched Daryl as he fell into a restless doze. He moaned and his breath hitched occasionally, his arms and legs jerked as if he were fighting someone. She stood and rounded the bed to stand nearer to him, gazing at him intently as he struggled in his sleep.

As she watched, Daryl's eyes flew open and he gazed at her –Claire recognized the look of someone who is caught in a nightmare and hasn't completely awoken yet. She hesitated to get closer or touch him, afraid he would become violent in his confusion.

"Daryl," she whispered softly. He seemed oblivious to her voice and continued to stare at her, his breathing hitching as he began to weep helplessly and soundlessly.

"Daryl," she tried again, anxious to break the nightmare's hold on him.

"Please," he whispered brokenly, "please don't, I won't be bad no more. Please, I promise," he continued between deepening sobs.

Claire's heart clenched at the sight and sound of this man reliving some horrific memory that apparently still had a strong grip on him even now. "Daryl," she said a bit louder. "Daryl, it's me. Claire. You're alright. I'm here with you. No one is going to hurt you," she continued soothingly.

Daryl shook his head, still trapped in his nightmare. "I won't be bad, please. Please don't hit me no more," and here he curled up as if avoiding a blow, a soft whimper of fear escaping him.

Claire frowned. How in the world was she going to snap him out of this? His moving around was going to open up the stitches in his shoulder. Not to mention the emotional toll this dream was having on him. He would be in no shape to face Negan if he didn't wake up from this and have some kind of restful sleep tonight. She glanced briefly at the clock on the wall-midnight. No one would come and check on her until at least five. She glanced around the room again and quickly turned off all but one lamp, darkening the room a bit more than it had been. Slipping off her shoes, she eased herself onto the bed and turned to face his back. Tentatively she lowered her hands to his head and slowly began to run her fingers softly through his hair. Her mother had done this to her and her siblings whenever they'd been upset. It had soothed her, and she hoped it would do the same for Daryl.

Slowly and gently she moved one hand from his head to his good shoulder and began to run her hand slowly and softly down his arm in a petting motion while she continued to stroke his hair. He had stiffened up at first but as she kept up the soft gentle motion, Claire felt Daryl grow still and his breathing evened out. She doubted he would ever fully relax no matter who he was with or where he was-his life before the virus had taught him to never let his guard down. And now that lesson had kept him alive through all the horror the virus had wrought. But at least she could hope to keep him somewhat calm and nightmare free for a few hours so he could get some much needed rest.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Claire woke with a start, confused momentarily as to where she was. Looking about blearily, she realized she had fallen asleep next to Daryl and now lay nearly on him draped across his wounded shoulder and chest. She began to ease away hoping she hadn't caused his shoulder any damage when she felt his grip around her waist tighten. Glancing up she met his eyes watching her every move-a sullen, suspicious look plain on his face.

Claire tried to pull away from Daryl's hold, but he merely shook his head at her although she caught a slight wince on his features from moving his shoulder.

"What the fuck're ya up to Claire," he rasped at her. Claire shook her head mutely, unsure of what he meant. "Don't fuckin' play with me," he spat out. His hand slid up her back and he grasped the back of her neck tightly. "I mean it. I ain't nobody's bitch, girl. I know what Negan wants, I can't figure out what the fuck it is you want." And with that he roughly shoved her away from him and she half fell off the bed.

Claire sprang back up angrily, dusting her ass and legs off while a flush crept up her neck. "I don't want anything from you, you pigheaded fool. You had a nightmare and I was trying to get you calm enough to get back to sleep. I guess I should've just let you toss and turn all night," she bit out and turned to go back over to her chair-embarrassed she'd fallen asleep beside Daryl and humiliated he'd called her out on it. She glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly five. Well, she'd at least gotten him to rest for a few hours, not that he was appreciative of it. She ached all over from the uncomfortable position she'd been sleeping in the last couple of nights in the chair and she felt as if she could fall into her own bed and sleep for days.

Claire half turned back to Daryl and frowned. If she did leave, no telling what would happen between Daryl and Negan today. Maybe she should just leave him to fend for himself after all. He certainly didn't want her help. It seemed she was just making a fool of herself for someone who could care less. She turned back around and walked to the door.

"Hey, where ya goin' to," she heard Daryl yelp behind her. She turned back around and stared at him uncertainly.

"You've made it clear you don't want me around, so I'm going back to my own damn room," she snapped.

Daryl gazed at her and saw the color creep back up her neck and into her cheeks. He knew embarrassment when he saw it-he had felt it himself often enough. Unless she was an extremely skilled liar, it seemed she had been truthful about trying to get him to rest after a nightmare. What puzzled him was why-she didn't know him, had no ties to him. It would be in her best interest to stay as far away from him as possible and let Negan do as he wished.

"Why the fuck're ya so concerned about me? And don't give me that shit about my bein' yer patient. Doctors and nurses don't act like you do about their patients. Least not any I've ever seen," he snapped then winced again as he tried to get more comfortable on the bed.

Claire opened her mouth and then shut it. She stood silently a moment, as if at a loss as to how to reply. Finally she shrugged. "You remind me of a boy I knew a long time ago. I grew up with him, in Boston. He ran around with my brothers and the other guys in the neighborhood."

Daryl nodded. "So? I remind ya of some guy? What is it about me that reminds ya of him?" he demanded.

Claire flushed an even deeper shade of red and she began to finger a small cross that hung around her neck. "I…..I don't know really," she murmured.

Daryl shook his head. "Bullshit. Yer bright red now, so spit it out and get it over with," he snapped again.

Claire sighed softly. "He was my boyfriend-he got into trouble in high school and he and some of the other guys got sent to Juvie," here she bit her lip and sighed again. Daryl nodded at her to go on. "I don't know-he just…..when they all got back they were all changed. And not for the good. None of them would tell what had happened, they got angry if you asked. And Bryan….he didn't want me to touch him-hold hands, lean against him. Nothing. He would go off by himself for hours and come back looking….haunted. Sometimes he'd come to my bedroom –he'd climb up to the roof and tap on my window. He'd come in and lie down with me –he wouldn't say a word except he was cold. He'd just shiver and I'd wrap myself around him trying to get him warm again. On the nights he fell asleep, he'd toss and turn and moan-a lot like you do."

Daryl started and color flushed his neck and cheeks as well. "So what happened? Where was he before the shit hit the fan?" he mumbled.

Claire dropped her hand from her cross and Daryl could see she was clenching her jaw tightly. "He killed himself," she finally blurted. At the look on Daryl's face, she continued in a voice that had become a monotone. "I had gone to nursing school that Fall after they all got home, and it was close to Christmas break. Bryan called me late one night-I thought he was coming up to see me, to bring me home for the break. He didn't really say much, just kept telling me he loved me. That I was the only good thing in his life. And then he said he had to go and he hung up. When I called back his dad yelled at me for calling so late and said Bryan hadn't been home all night-he'd left just after dinner. And then he hung up on me. So I waited up all night hoping to hear from somebody. Hoping Bryan would call me back." Claire rubbed her face tiredly and fell silent.

Daryl watched her silently, caught up in her tale. "What happened?" he whispered.

"My brother came to my room around six the next morning. Told me Bryan had been in a car wreck, hit a patch of ice and slammed into a tree. Dead on impact. But I knew. I knew he'd done it on purpose. And the day of his funeral his mother gave me a present-said Bryan had told her to make sure I got it. And it was this cross," and here Claire lightly touched the cross on her neck. "We grew up Catholic. I had seen this in some neighborhood store-it wasn't expensive, nothing fancy, but I liked how small and delicate it was. And sometime he had gotten it for me and made sure I got it."

Claire fell silent and stood uncertainly halfway between the door and the bed. Daryl nodded and motioned to her to come closer. "I'm sorry Claire. I'm not easy to get along with, don't trust folks. Guess I misjudged ya. I preciate all you've done for me-takin' care of my shoulder, makin' sure I eat. Keepin' an eye out for me. I'm an asshole-always been one, probly the day I die I'll still be an asshole. But I'm sorry that I was a prick to ya." Claire nodded and smiled slightly at Daryl's apology. "Think ya can stick around til I know what that fucker has up his sleeve today?"

Claire snorted at that and nodded again. She pulled the chair closer to the bed and sank into it with a sigh. Looking at the clock, she glanced back at Daryl. "He's an early riser. You've got maybe an hour or so before he comes to get you for bfast," she said quietly, watching Daryl's face grow slightly pale at her words. "Maybe I can have breakfast with the two of you, if that'll make you feel better," she shyly suggested.

Daryl looked at her gratefully. "I'd like that, thanks," he mumbled and closed his eyes to think about the situation with Negan.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Negan watched Claire and Daryl. Daryl watched Negan. And Claire watched Negan and Daryl. There wasn't much eating going on, although there was plenty of food on the table. The silence was uncomfortable, the tension could be cut with a knife. Daryl tried to keep his fidgeting to a minimum, hoping to appear more confidant to Negan-but he was afraid the minute Negan dismissed Claire, something he was sure would happen any minute now, Negan would see just how nervous he was.

"Well," Negan at last blurted out, causing both Claire and Daryl to jump slightly. "Claire, I believe it is time the women left the room so we men can discuss things," Negan purred and then winked at Daryl. Claire colored up and opened her mouth to offer a protest, but Negan laid his hand over hers tightly and squeezed slightly. Claire's eyes widened in surprise-Negan had never laid a hand on her, not once in all the time she'd known him. "No arguments Claire. Daryl and I have some business matters to discuss. You and I can talk later," and he released Claire's hand and waved her off.

Claire shot an apologetic look at Daryl, something Negan did not miss, and slowly rose and made her way out of the dining room. Negan looked at Daryl and smiled-a very thin, cold and angry smile. Daryl felt the sweat begin to trickle down his back once again and clenched his hands on his thighs underneath the table in an attempt to control his movements.

"So, it seems my Claire is maybe smitten with you?" Negan said softly. Daryl tried to swallow, his throat suddenly parched. He noted the territorial use of the word my in that sentence, and realized that although Claire thought there was nothing between she and Negan, he clearly thought something different.

"Don't know nothin' bout that," Daryl rasped out. "She ain't been anythin' but professional with me-I'm grateful ya had her take care of my gunshot wound. She done a good job…." He trailed off uncertainly at Negan's sudden flare of nostrils and tightening of his mouth.

"Yes, Claire is always professional. But something about you has clearly peaked her interest. I confess I've never observed her to be interested in any man in the time I've known her. Her brother told me that Claire had wanted to become a nun when she was younger and her mother had had such a fit over it that instead she had finished her nursing school and gone to work in the poorer area hospitals and eventually the prison where her brother was sent. Basically she lived like a nun without the orders. No drinking, no smoking, no drugs, no men." Negan paused and considered Daryl thoughtfully. "But something about you…I don't know what it is, but I'll figure it out. Make no mistake though, she is mine just as surely as you are. And I will do as I wish with her, just as I will with her. So it will be in both your and her best interest if you cooperate with me. Maybe you don't mind certain things being done to you," and Negan moved his hand as if to brush Daryl's hair out of his eyes then dropped it again. "But you might mind those things happening to Claire."

Daryl clamped his jaw shut –surely to God Negan wouldn't hurt Claire just because Negan thought she liked him?

Before he could think about that threat too much more, Negan stood up and motioned for Daryl to follow him out into the courtyard. Daryl marveled at how in the courtyard time had stood still-the fountain burbled, the plants and flowers thrived. You could believe none of the ugliness outside these walls existed. Negan led him around, naming the various plants and flowers –pride evident that he had kept this garden going.

They came to a trellis over another pathway that seemed to end in a secluded corner. Daryl's hackles rose as he realized Negan was herding him into that corner. He stopped and tried to control his breathing. Negan turned and smiled broadly at him. "Why the hesitation Daryl? There's something special I'd like to show you over here in the corner." And he waved Daryl forward. Daryl stood still, not trusting Negan once he was alone in that corner with him. If anyone came looking for them, they wouldn't be seen. Negan could do whatever he wished with him with no interruption. Daryl took a step back and Negan shook his head, smiling indulgently. "I assure you, you don't want to ignore my request. Come along now, this won't take but a minute," and he waved Daryl again. Daryl took a deep breath and forced himself to walk first behind then ahead of Negan toward a small bench surrounded by small pink roses on all sides.

From behind Negan pushed him suddenly and roughly toward the wall and Daryl flung his hands up to prevent his running face first into that wall. Negan immediately stood flush against his back and placed his hands around Daryl's waist and ripped his shirt open, running his hands up and down Daryl's chest and abdomen. Daryl felt Negan's breath hot on his neck and flinched when Negan's tongue touched his earlobe.

"You are a very handsome man, I'll give Claire that," Negan murmured into Daryl's ear. His hands rubbed all up and down Daryl's chest and one hand began to slowly work it's way down his abdomen toward his groin. Daryl's breath stuttered in his throat and he felt a wild panic surge up in him –something he hadn't felt in decades.

"No," he cried out hoarsely and tried to twist out of Negan's grasp. Negan's hold only tightened.

"Would you rather be on your knees in front of me?" Negan purred again in his ear. Daryl stood stock still, shocked and horrified to his core. "It's up to you. Or maybe you'd rather see Claire in this position. Some men do get off on watching. Maybe you'd like to see me take Claire this way?" Negan's hand ran over Daryl's crotch on the outside of his scrubs and Daryl shuddered in revulsion. Negan laughed softly and suddenly released Daryl and backed off. "You think about that. I'll give you a few days. You can either tell me everything I want to know, or you can be my bitch. Or you can watch me use Claire as my bitch. It's up to you," and with that Negan left Daryl shaking and gasping in the little secluded corner of the garden.

When he was sure Negan was gone, Daryl collapsed on the little bench –his legs like rubber and no longer supportive-and began to weep hoarsely in great heaving sobs.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Claire roused from her sleep, gazing about her blearily. She ran her hand over her face tiredly, then started when she realized Negan was sitting in a chair beside her bed watching her.

"What are you doing?" she asked uncertainly. He had never once been in her quarters, much less her bedroom. And she didn't feel comfortable with the idea of him sitting there watching her sleep.

"Waiting for you to wake up, Claire, so we can have our little talk," Negan said quietly.

Claire shivered involuntarily at the coldness in his voice. She moved to sit up and get off the bed but Negan shook his head.

"No, stay there. I like the way you look lying there, your hair spread all about you. You look like an angel when you're sleeping, did you know that?" Negan smiled and Claire felt her heart begin to thump wildly in her chest. She didn't like that smile, it reminded her of the way the old story went of the wolf smiling at the girl before he ate her up. She shook her head dumbly, uncertain of how to answer.

Negan shrugged. "Well, that's not what I came here to discuss with you," and he waved dismissively. "Daryl. He's what I'd like to discuss with you," he said quietly.

Claire frowned in confusion. "Daryl? Do you want to know about his wound? He's healing really quickly…" and her voice trailed off at the look on Negan's face.

"I don't care about how well he's healing at the moment. What I care about is why you are so interested in him. What is it about him that has you so fascinated?" he bit out.

Claire's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean? He's my patient. Of course I'm going to check on him….." again she stopped short at the look on Negan's face. To her shock he looked like a jealous teenager, angry that she was paying attention to someone other than him.

"You don't ever give this much attention to your patients Claire. Not as long as I've known you. You've certainly never given me this much of your attention, and I'm your friend," he rasped.

Claire shook her head helplessly, at a loss for words. What in the world was going on? She'd never seen any interest on Negan's part toward her at all, why was he acting like this now?

Negan leaned toward her, his arms braced on his legs. "Tell me. Tell me what you see in him that you don't see in me," he whispered angrily.

Claire unconsciously began to play with the cross at her neck. "He reminds me a little of a boy I knew a long time ago," she said quietly.

Negan frowned, then nodded. "Bryan." Claire gave him a surprised look. "Your brother told me about him. He was a friend of your family. And he and some the other boys were sent to reform school-luckily your brother missed that." He paused and Claire nodded slightly. "So, you were in love with this boy, yes?" Claire nodded again, still silent. "He died, and you wanted to become a nun, right?" She nodded yet again, a cold sweat beginning to trickle down her back. "So what is it about Daryl that reminds you of Bryan?"

At Claire's continued shocked silence, Negan grabbed her arm and roughly shook her, eliciting a squeak of surprise from her.

"I assure you Claire, you'll be making a lot more noise than that if you don't tell me what I want to know," he growled as he shook her again.

To both their surprise, Claire wrenched her arm out of his grasp and backed away, coming to stand on the opposite side of the bed from Negan. Her face flushed with anger of her own now and her fists clenched at her sides.

"I don't know what in the hell has gotten into you but you can stop it right now," she spit out. Negan leaned back and smiled.

"There's that temper I heard about. I've never seen it firsthand, but your brother had some very interesting stories about your temper and the trouble it got you into. Maybe I should've been rougher with you all this time, we would have had more fun maybe?"

Claire backed away another step. "Have you lost your mind?" she said louder. "What the hell are you talking about? You come in here, wake me up after you've been watching me sleep for God knows how long, and now you're babbling about Daryl? What the hell is going on?"

Negan laughed. "There's my girl! You've got some spirit after all. My God I'd love to see you underneath me like this-flushed and breathing hard, fighting me and then giving in to me," he said as he stood and began to cross the room toward her. Claire realized her mistake immediately when after a few steps backward she realized she had backed herself into a corner.

Negan stopped just in front of her and roughly grabbed her arms and pulled her toward him. "Whatever it is that you find attractive about Daryl, you'd best not follow up on that. You. Are. Mine." And with each word he shook her slightly. When Claire tried to pull away, he only tightened his grip until she winced in pain. "Tell me though, what is it about him?"

Claire glared up at him. "He has a wounded soul. Like Bryan" she said tensely.

Negan threw his head back and laughed loudly. "And what of my soul? Haven't you ever been concerned about my soul at all?" he sneered at her.

Claire tried to yank her arms out of his grip again and then stomped on his foot with no result but to see Negan laugh again. "You haven't got a soul," she yelped as she tried again to yank herself out of his grip.

At her words, Negan roughly grabbed her by the hair and lowered his mouth to hers forcing her lips apart brutally-his kiss more an expression of anger than of care or love. After a minute, he lifted his mouth from hers and leaned his mouth near her ear. "No, Claire, I have a soul. And both of ours are damned to Hell-mine for what I've done and yours for not stopping me." At this he released her and turned and strode angrily out the room, slamming the door behind him-leaving Claire to stare after him, tears of rage and frustration pouring down her cheeks.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Daryl looked up in surprise when Claire entered. He hadn't seen her since breakfast and now it was well after dinner. His gaze stopped at the bruising on her forearms and he rose quickly and crossed to where she stood. "What the fuck happened?" he growled as he held her hands and carefully looked over her bruises.

"He has lost his mind apparently. Or lost it a long time ago and I just didn't see it," she whispered angrily.

"What did he do?" Daryl growled again. Claire shook her head and pulled her hands away to cross the room and sit in the chair she usually sat in.

"He threatened me. I've never seen him like this-he's jealous of you!" she blurted in surprise.

Daryl nodded and pulled a chair beside her, lowering himself carefully into it. "Yeah, after ya left he threatened both of us. I gotta get the fuck outta here, back to Rick and them. This guy is worse than anyone I've met since this shit happened-and I thought we'd dealt with some pretty major psychos. Negan though, he's got the top award for being crazy." He glanced at Claire's face and his expression darkened when he saw the bruising of her lips.

"Yes, you need to get out and I'm coming with you. I'm certainly not staying after what he did today. I won't ever feel safe around him again. I'm a goddam fool for having turned a blind eye to all his bullshit all this time," she said angrily.

Daryl shook his head vehemently. "No Claire, don't blame yerself. You couldn't have done anything ta stop him, and ya couldn't have survived out there on yer own. I couldn't have survived long on my own. None of us can. It's not just the walkers, it's all the assholes like him that are loose out there as well."

Claire smiled weakly at Daryl. "That's kind of you, but this is my fault. We Catholics thrive on guilt, and I definitely feel it for this mess." They sat gazing quietly at each other for a minute, then Claire shook herself slightly. "Well, now we need to think of a way to get out. Do you have any doctors at your camp? Would there be a way I could go there on the pretense of checking on anyone?"

Daryl nodded eagerly. "Yeah, Maggie is pregnant. Ya could go there ta check on her and maybe find a way to give Rick and them the layout of this place. I know that fucker won't let me go with him-"

"Yes he will," Claire interrupted, "he'll use you for bargaining. He'll show them you're being taken care of and healthy and threaten you if they don't obey him. I know he did something like that with the Amish community." Claire stood and began to pace. "This will work. He'll want to contact them soon, in the next few day. He'll take you, and I'll ask to go because you've mentioned there's a pregnant woman there. We need to figure out a way now to let them know what's going on here without anything written. I can insist on doing Maggie's exam without anyone in the room and maybe talk to her then. But we need to think of a way out of here permanently and a way to get rid of Negan and the worst of his bunch permanently as well."

Daryl nodded slowly, thinking it all over. It was the only way they would be able to communicate with his group-Claire would need to come and examine Maggie. He didn't like the idea of putting Claire at odds with Negan any further, but he also didn't like the idea of her being left behind here alone while he and Negan were gone. No matter what they decided to do, it was obvious they needed to do it soon. Negan sounded like he was going off the rails and Daryl didn't intend to stick around to watch it.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Five days later and Daryl was traveling in a caravan toward Alexandria. Negan and one of his goons was in the front of the SUV, Daryl was in the back between two other goons. Claire had been unable to persuade Negan to let her accompany them-he had insisted he would assess the situation first and if there was anyone that needed medical attention he would bring them back to his camp so Claire could attend to them. Claire had told Daryl she would scout out the camp while they were away to see if there were any weak areas in the walls or buildings and try to monitor the guard shifts on the walls. Daryl had reluctantly agreed but had also tried to impress on her the importance of not doing anything to raise suspicion while he wasn't there to help her.

Now Daryl's mind raced as they sped closer to Alexandria. It had been nearly two weeks since he'd been shot and then forced to stay at Negan's camp. He was actually surprised no one had tried to come see Negan in that time, which made him wonder what had been going on while he'd been recuperating. He had been lucky enough that the preparations for meeting with his group had kept Negan occupied -there hadn't been any more breakfasts or walks in the garden. Of course he'd also been moved to his own quarters out of the infirmary and only saw Claire twice a day when she checked his wound-always under the careful watch of some of Negan's goons. At least he'd had his own shower in his quarters so he didn't have to worry about somebody watching him strip down and clean up. He'd been kept to his rooms with no communication from anyone save Claire and she herself had had nothing to tell him. Negan had stayed away from her as well after his outburst, which both Daryl and Claire were grateful for.

Daryl straightened up and strained to get a glimpse as they drove closer to the gates of Alexandria. To his surprise he saw more than a few of Negan's men there. Looking up Daryl noted none of the people he knew were on the guard towers, only Negan's men. That explained why Rick hadn't come to see him, despite Negan's warnings. Negan was holding the town hostage.

Daryl noted more of Negan's men scattered about the streets as they drove through the gate, all heavily armed. He had known Negan had a large contingent of followers, but had never had a chance to get a decent count of them. Now he had to wonder just how many there were-if there enough to occupy Alexandria and keep Negan's camp running. Daryl stifled a sigh-he wouldn't give up hope. He knew if he just saw Rick they could figure something out somehow.

The vehicles stopped just inside the gates and they began to get out and stretch. Daryl was unable to move just yet, as Negan had insisted on heavily shackling him-just like a murderer would have been for a court date. Shackles on his ankles joined to his hands joined to a chain around his neck. Worse, his hands were shackled behind him, throwing his already precarious balance from the ankle shackles off even more. His legs were already cramping from not being able to stretch them out in a full stride and he could feel a bead of sweat starting down his back at the thought of his friends seeing him manacled like this. It didn't help that all he wore were some flimsy scrub pants and a wife beater -he was pretty much commando right now and that didn't make him feel very secure. He worried what Negan was going to do to him in front of his friends. His breath was already coming in short gasps and he struggled to slow it down and get himself under control.

Looking up out of the car doorway he saw Negan smile at him and his heart sank-there was no way this was going to go well. Negan had some idea of humiliating Daryl, he could see it in the man's smile.

"Come along, Daryl. Time for your friends to see just how well I've been treating you at my place," Negan said smoothly and reached out and roughly yanked on the chain around Daryl's neck. Daryl gasped and struggled to keep from choking. With Negan holding the chain and jerking it steadily Daryl slid along the seat and tentatively swung his feet out onto the ground and tried to steady himself to stand up. "That's a boy, come on. I'm sure you're anxious to see you friends again," Negan said smoothly and began to lead Daryl toward the town hall. Daryl struggled as Negan jerked the chain steadily, trying to maintain his balance and keep up the pace although with his ankles manacled it was all but impossible. A few times he started to stumble and fall but Negan would have one of his men grab Daryl and set him right again before they continued on. A walk that should have taken five minutes took almost thirty and Daryl blanched at the knowledge that this walk was to prove to everyone that he was indeed Negan's property and could be dealt with as Negan pleased. He was deeply grateful his brother wasn't here to witness his shame and humiliation.

At the town hall they stopped and glancing up under his fringe of hair Daryl saw Rick gazing at him quietly-and he saw the look of pain and rage on Rick's face at Negan's treatment of Daryl as well.

"So, you are Rick is that correct?" Negan asked loudly. Rick nodded affirmative and remained silent. "Good, now that we have met officially we can go on in and have our discussion about my terms for occupation of your town. Or should I say, my town now?" and Negan laughed loudly while Rick frowned more deeply. Daryl noted Aaron and Abraham to each side and just behind Rick and wondered where the rest of his family was-relieved that they weren't present to see him like this.

To Daryl's surprise, Negan handed his chain off to one of his underlings and started up the steps. Rick cleared his throat. "Wait, you said I could talk to Daryl. Why isn't he coming in?"

Negan nodded at his man who held Daryl's chain and the man jerked Daryl over to a large wooden post that Daryl guessed had been built by Negan's men. He was pushed forward and the man unclasped his hands from behind him and proceeded to shackle his hands above his head to the post. He next unshackled Daryl's ankles and chained one on each side of the post. Daryl's face was to the post, his back to Rick and he began to shake. This reminded him too much of how his Pa would position him before he began to whip him. He would command Daryl to stand still and if Daryl fell-which happened often -he would add on to the punishment. Daryl had learned to stand a certain way and how to brace himself as he got older so he didn't fall as often. The fact that he was now shackled to the post meant to him that Negan would make sure he didn't fall when or if he beat him. Daryl bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut to concentrate on not whimpering even though he could feel the flesh on his back tingle and twitch at the memory of those other beatings.

Negan waved again at his man, who proceeded to rip off Daryl's shirt fully exposing his back with all its scars and welts to all. Daryl hunched his shoulders and shivered-very few of his family had known what his back looked like and why. "I think I'll keep him out here as a reminder to you to be honest in your negotiations with me. Otherwise, your friend here will suffer my displeasure," Negan said. Daryl flinched again and as his back was turned to the others, he was left to imagine what Rick looked like at hearing this.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Claire walked into Daryl's room to find him shirtless and shivering from exhaustion and stress. He had the beginnings of a sunburn across his shoulders and back. Claire frowned at the sight of him, and as she walked over to him she noted he didn't raise his head or meet her eyes. His posture was that of a whipped dog or child-hunched over in an effort to take up as little space as possible.

"Hey, what happened today? Did you get a chance to see any of your family?" Claire spoke softly as she approached Daryl slowly, not wanting to startle him. He merely shook his head slightly in the negative and continued to tremble and shake. Claire settled her hand softly on Daryl's bare shoulder and he flinched violently and tried to jerk away from her touch. "What the hell happened out there?" Claire demanded, slightly louder. She walked around and gazed full on at his back and huffed out an angry breath. On Daryl's back was a brand-a fair sized N in between his shoulder blades. The skin was red and angry and looked very painful. "Dammit to hell!" Claire swore softly and reached out to examine the wound closer.

"Leave it!" Daryl gritted out and shuddered again. "Leave me alone! Ain't nothin' can be done about it. And if he catches you in here he'll just do worse to you," he rasped out between gasping breaths.

"I'm not afraid of him," Claire snapped as she tried again to examine the brand.

"Well I am," Daryl shouted angrily. "I thought my Pa was the Devil himself-but this bastard makes my Pa look like a fucking Boy Scout. He had me chained up to a fucking pole while he met with Rick and them. Then when they all came out he branded me as his property in front of everyone. Made everyone that lives there come out and watch," Daryl paused and stifled a sob. "Everyone there saw my back. Everyone there saw him brand me and saw me scream some like fucking pussy when he did it. Christ," and Daryl rubbed a shaking hand over his face. "Never got to speak to Rick or anyone else. Bout passed out when he branded me, then they shoved me in the back of some truck fixed up like something the pound goes around in and snatches dogs up in. Still all fucking chained up. Had to listen to that fucker and his assholes laugh and joke about it all the way back here. Didn't see Rick's face or anyone else's. Whole time I was chained to that fucking pole those assholes kept anyone from coming close enough to talk to me." Daryl glared up at Claire, his eyes wide with pain and humiliation plain on his face. Tears streamed down his cheeks unheeded. "I ain't afraid of gettin' killed Claire. I'm afraid of what the fuck else he has in mind for me. I got an idea of what it is, and I sure as hell ain't doin' anythin' to make that idea a reality." Daryl dropped his face into his hands and sobbed silently in pain, embarrassment and frustration.

Claire sighed and turned and left the room silently. Daryl heard the door shut and wept openly. For the first time in a very long time he felt just as helpless as he had when he was young and under his father's iron fisted rule. And for the first time in a very long time he wished his father had killed him with one of those beatings.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Negan looked up in surprise from his seat in his garden as Claire came storming up to him. "What the hell did you brand him for?" she spat out angrily.

Negan smirked. "Why Claire! Why are you so upset? What do you care if some random man of mine gets branded? I didn't hurt his shoulder after all, and that's the wound you've been concerned with. Or is your concern now for his entire being instead of just his shoulder?"

Claire stood in front of Negan, angrily clenching her fists. "I don't like seeing anyone mistreated. And I don't like seeing somebody hurt just for someone else's pleasure. If branding Daryl was your way of getting back at me for some imagined slight on my part, then congratulations you've made your point." Negan watched Claire silently, seeing a side of Claire he had yet to see in all the time he'd known her. She was far angrier than he'd ever seen her-it was obvious to him she felt a lot more for Daryl Dixon than she had admitted to him or maybe even to herself. How could he use that to his advantage?

Goaded by his continued silence, Claire stepped closer to Negan. "Just what is it that you want from me so you'll leave him alone?" she hissed. And Negan smiled now, because Claire had given him some leverage.

"What are you willing to do?" he asked quietly, watching her reactions closely. Claire straightened up, confusion plain on her face.

"What?" she asked, running her hands through her hair in agitation.

"What will you do for me to keep your Daryl safe?" he purred.

"He's not my Daryl," Claire shot back.

Negan shook his head slightly. "Oh, I think he is. And how far will you go to keep him safe?"

Claire shook her head, dumbfounded.

"Answer me!" Negan shouted, and Claire jerked in surprise at the vehemence in his voice. He stood quickly and Claire stepped back once before Negan grabbed her shoulders and shook her roughly. "What will you give up to keep this man safe? What do you prize more than anything?" Negan let his gaze wander over Claire slowly and he hummed. "Yes, that's it."

Claire tried to jerk herself free of Negan's grasp. "What are you talking about? You aren't making any sense," she snapped.

"If you want me to leave Daryl alone, then you have to give me something worthwhile to give me a reason to stop hurting him. What will you give me?" and he shook her slightly again.

"I don't have anything. You know that," Claire spat back. At the look on Negan's face though she suddenly felt as if she'd been doused in cold water.

"Yes Claire, you do. Yourself. Come to my bed freely-do whatever I ask of you in my bed, be available to me whenever I want you. And I'll leave Daryl alone," Negan whispered and Claire felt a cold chill go up her spine.

"So, if I agree to be your sex slave," and she paused and Negan nodded, "then you'll leave Daryl alone. No more manacles, no more chaining him to poles, no more brands. He eats regularly and I get to tend to his wounds without complaint from you," she said softly. Negan nodded again. "And how do I know as soon as you've fucked me you won't go and torment him again?" she hissed.

Negan released his grip from her shoulders and waved to her to follow him back into his dining area. He strode over to a desk and rummaged about until he found paper and pen. "I'll write it out for you. A contract. You are my property and as long as our contract is honored no harm will come to Daryl Dixon by my hand-"Claire raised a brow "or anyone else in my employ's hand. Does that satisfy you? I'll sign it in front of witnesses as will you. I'll put it in my safe and that will be that," Negan continued smoothly. He glanced over at Claire, sure she would balk at this. To his surprise she nodded in agreement.

"Alright, write it up. Once you have it written up, bring it to me in the morning and I'll sign it in front of your witnesses. And if you break that damn contract," she paused, the reality of what she was agreeing to catching up to her and stifling her breath.

"What? What will you do if I break the contract?" Negan asked curiously.

"I'll kill you," Claire said quietly and turned and left the room.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

Daryl had spent a restless and sleepless night-upset with himself that he'd been so harsh with Claire, that he'd allowed himself to break down like he had-he should've been stronger, Merle would have never let him hear the end of it if he'd been around to witness his baby ass crying like he had over a little brand.

His shoulder ached, and now his back ached and burned as well. His head throbbed and it hurt to breathe. He'd taken a long hot shower after Claire had left, but that had done nothing to stop his shivering. That had continued through the night and even now at mid morning his hands trembled slightly and every few minutes a shiver ran through him. He felt as if he would never be warm again, and almost wished he was back out in that damn hot and humid Georgia air he'd grown up.

The door opened and Negan strolled in waving a paper and smiling. "Hello Mr Dixon. And how are you feeling this morning?" he said loudly, almost singing in his apparent happiness. Daryl stiffened up-what the hell had made this asshole so happy? Whatever it was it couldn't possibly be anything good.

"Not up for conversation this morning?" Negan continued smoothly. "I do apologize-branding isn't really conducive to a good night's sleep or hearty repartee the day after I'm afraid," he continued, chuckling to himself and waving the paper yet again aimlessly. "I have brought you something that might interest you however," and he laid the paper down on the bedside table. Daryl watched carefully from where he stood across the room. "You'll be relieved to know that there really are some good people in this world after all. People who will sacrifice their own wellbeing for the safety of others. I guess it's the reason the Catholic faith has so many martyrs and saints. They see sacrificing themselves as something that brings them closer to God, and that is what helps them get through whatever hardships or tortures they must go through." He paused and glanced over at Daryl.

Daryl felt his heart clench in his chest and his throat closed up. "What….what are ya talkin' bout?" he rasped.

"Why Claire signed a contract with me. She is mine-wholly and completely, to do with as I please. And in return I have agreed not to physically harm you anymore." At this Negan laughed, and Daryl felt the hair rise up on the back of his neck. "Poor thing didn't think to include that I shouldn't fuck with you emotionally or mentally though. That's the problem with the goody two shoes of the world-they have no real imagination. At least not when it comes to the darker side of life." He smiled and shrugged. "So I have a copy for you as well. The original has been signed and put away in a safe place. And as long as you and Claire both behave, you won't have to worry anymore about branding or chains or any other fun thing I had planned for you. All thanks to St. Claire." Negan watched Daryl closely and smiled a thin smile at the sight of Daryl's color draining from his face and his increased shaking. "I must admit I always thought saints and martyrs rather boring-but now that I apparently have a real live one on my hands I can't wait to see what it'll take to truly break her." Negan started toward the door and paused to turn and look at Daryl. "Unless of course you would like to take her place in my bed," and he watched Daryl flinch in shock. "I didn't think so. Do you think she's a virgin? I've never had a virgin. This should be interesting if she is-I've got a number of things to teach her and without any experience I can teach her my way of doing things, no breaking old habits as they say." Negan laughed loudly and winked at Daryl. "Don't worry, if you're interested I can come by in the morning and give you a blow by blow," and here he chuckled again, "as they say rundown of Claire's first night of bedroom lessons." At the continued `dead silence from Daryl Negan shrugged. "No? Ah well, maybe when I've got her properly trained I can have her demonstrate her new skills for you. Would you like that?" and Negan turned and went out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. Daryl felt all the strength go out of his legs and he sank heavily to the floor. What had possessed Claire to do such a thing? And how could he ever make this up to her?


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Two days had passed since Negan had brought the contract to Daryl. Two days with no visit from Claire, or Negan either. He'd been left to himself in his room, food brought regularly and a first aid kit brought to him for his shoulder wound. Other than that he'd seen no one.

He'd spent the time pacing anxiously-his mind playing over every disgusting and depraved thing he imagined Negan would do to Claire. His conscious was having its way with him-he already beat himself up regularly for not being smart enough or brave enough for his family, anyone's death he blamed himself for. Claire was just one more reason for Daryl to give in to his ever present feelings of shame and humiliation at who he was and where he came from. He was useless to everyone, and every action of his led to nothing but death and disaster for his family. The only way to make this up to everyone was to get Claire out of here and see his family safe from Negan. If this meant his death, so be it.

The evening of the third day the door opened and Claire stepped in bearing a tray of food and a medical bag. Daryl stood and waited uncertainly as Claire delivered the tray to the table and set the bag beside it. His fists clenched and unclenched as his gaze ran over her looking for any bruising or other signs of abuse. When Claire looked up at him finally, he noted shadows under her eyes but no other signs of distress.

"Claire," he rasped hesitantly. Claire met his gaze without any hesitation and held it until Daryl dropped his. Daryl shook his head at her continued silence. "Claire," he whispered brokenly.

"Let's get your shoulder and that brand looked at," Claire said softly and motioned for Daryl to step toward her as she began to open the bag. Daryl crossed the room and stood uncertainly in front of her. "You'll need to take your shirt off, Daryl," she murmured.

Daryl nodded and slipped his shirt off and sat in the chair so Claire could examine his shoulder and back. Claire leaned closer, her lips almost touching Daryl's ear. "Listen carefully to me," she whispered. At Daryl's brief nod, she continued. "I have a plan to get us out of here. But you have to trust me. Don't do anything rash. Don't sit in here and let some misguided sense of guilt eat you up. I'm a lot stronger than you know, and I don't need anybody to rescue me from this. I put myself in this position because I think I can use the situation to get the upper hand and get us both out of here safely." Daryl opened his mouth to protest and Claire squeezed his shoulder impatiently. "Daryl," she hissed sharply, "promise me you'll trust me and not do anything foolish." After a slight hesitation, he nodded reluctantly.

Claire straightened up and sighed. "Alright then, your shoulder looks much improved. Your branding won't get infected and scarring should be at a minimum, for a branding at least," she said softly. She moved to his front and gazed at him steadily, searching his face silently. "Are you sleeping alright? I need you to be at your best when I feel the time is right to leave. I need you to eat, get a full nights sleep and get some exercise. There's a running track that I'll tell Negan I want you to use." Daryl nodded. "I'm going to see Maggie tomorrow," she said and smiled at the look on Daryl's face. "Negan wants me to check her and I'm going to suggest she be moved to Hilltop for a real doctor's care and bedrest. Glen too. I'm going to try to go with them to get her settled in, and while I'm there I'll see what the situation there is like. We're going to need as many people as possible to help us with what I have in mind."

Daryl nodded and began biting at his thumb. "There's a guy at Alexandria, or he was anyway. His name's Jesus. He lives at Hilltop but he came to Alexandria with Rick and me."

Claire thought a minute. "I'll see if he'll go back to Hilltop with me then, unless he's already there. Do you trust him?"

Daryl shrugged. "Yeah, guess so. Rick did anyway." He continued to tear at his thumb while thinking. Claire placed her hand on his and gently tugged his thumb away from his mouth.

"Hey, I get the feeling you haven't had many people in your life you felt you could trust. But I promise you I won't ever do anything that I think would put you at jeopardy or hurt you."

Daryl frowned. "Why? I ain't nothin' to ya. Just some asshole Negan made ya take care of." He tried to pull his hand from Claire's and she tightened her grip to his chagrin.

"I told you about Bryan. You remind me of him in some ways. I didn't help him the way I should have. I'm not going to make that same mistake again," Claire replied and leaned in and kissed Daryl briefly on the mouth then moved away.

Daryl stared at her in shock and surprise, his lips tingling slightly from where she'd kissed them. She turned and smiled softly at him and headed toward the door. Turning slightly she laughed slightly at the look of astonishment on Daryl's face.

"Hmmmm, I guess trusting someone isn't the only thing you haven't done much of in the past," she said teasingly and went out of the room leaving Daryl to stare in bemusement after her.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

A week later Maggie, Glen and Jesus were settled in at Hilltop. Claire had ensured Jesus' promise that he would travel to The Kingdom to speak with Ezekiel-asking him to join them in defeating Negan. Claire had discovered Dwight and his wife, Honey, had been plotting to kill Negan for some time. She had blackmailed them into joining her in her plan. Now they all had to be patient-they couldn't move too fast or Negan would catch them. They had to wait until he was lulled into a false sense of security-which meant Claire had to be his willing and eager bedmate much to Daryl's growing unease.

Daryl had made himself eat and exercise to gain the strength back in his arm. The days were growing shorter, Fall was rapidly passing into winter and he was growing ever more anxious to be back with his family and away from Negan. Negan no longer tried to rattle him by touching him or threatened him in that way, but this was no relief to Daryl since he knew Claire was the reason Negan left him alone. He could never make this up to her and despite her warnings to not let his guilt eat away with him, that was exactly what he was doing. He spent his nights pacing, doing situps and pushups and chin-ups -anything to the point of exhaustion so he could sleep.

Daryl had been running around the track one morning in mid- November, trying not to think about what Negan was doing to Claire every night, trying to tamp his anger, resentment, jealousy and anxiety down where he could manage it when he spotted Claire stepping out into the cold morning air a short distance away. He picked up his pace and halted in front of her, anxiously searching her face for a sign of anything wrong other than the obvious.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he blurted out while panting heavily from his running.

Claire smiled back at him broadly. "Today's the day," she said softly.

Daryl glanced around quickly and stepped toward her. "Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly. His heart had begun pounding in his chest.

Claire nodded. "Yes, Jesus got a message to me through Dwight that they'll be ready tonight. As will Rick and his group, and Ezekial's group. They'll be here just after dusk. Then we can move against Negan's assholes here." She gazed at him-excitement clearly on her features.

Daryl nodded shortly. "You've never told me how you're going to do this," he rasped. "How are ya gonna knock him out? What're ya gonna do?" He glanced around again quickly. He knew he couldn't be seen touching her but his hands itched to grab her to him tightly.

"I didn't want to tell you until I was sure," Claire said softly. "I looked up some old medical journals I'd found along the way in different places." Daryl nodded slightly to encourage her. "Poison. Not in his food or drink-he'd suspect that and sometimes he still has me eat or drink what he has. To test me. So, I looked around and found a plant that is extremely poisonous to the touch. I told Jesus and Dwight what I needed and they found some and brought it to me." Daryl's mouth fell open and he began to protest but Claire shook her head quickly. "We took precautions. Gloves, in safe containers. I rubbed some on his soap, shampoo bottle, put some in the shampoo, dusted some on his towels. I've got an epi pen that has nothing but air in it. So when he goes into some kind of fit, I can pretend I'm trying to save him and I can shoot a damn air bubble into him. He'll have a heart attack and die. Dwight is going to take care of the others-I ground up the leaves to a powder and they're going to spread it in the other men's rooms-on their beds, etc."

Daryl shook his head violently. "Jesus! What if ya breathe it in?!"

Claire smiled, and Daryl felt a cold finger run up his spine. He'd never seen any woman smile like this-only his father and Negan had ever smiled like this. He suddenly wondered if getting them free of Negan had meant his losing Claire after all-just not in any way he had imagined. He stepped back slightly, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the thought of what kind of person could plan something like this. Not the kind of person he had believed Claire was.

Claire watched Daryl's face closely. "I'm not the person you thought I was Daryl. Or who Negan thought I was. We all have a past, and I made sure Negan knew nothing about mine. I chose to let Negan believe what he wanted about me, and he did exactly what I hoped-he underestimated me-I didn't grow up with brothers like mine and learn nothing. Negan thought I went to work at the jail to look out for my brother. That's what we let him believe. What Negan never found out was that my brother went to jail for me-I was the one who had killed someone. My brother took the blame for me."

Daryl stumbled back, a stricken expression on his face. "You….you killed someone? You?" he stammered out. His chest ached and he was struggling to breathe. How could this be? How had he so badly misjudged her? He prided himself on detecting bullshit from someone and here Claire had been bullshitting him for months now.

Claire stood silently, watching Daryl attempt to absorb what she had told him. She watched the disbelief run over his features, followed by bewilderment, then anger and fear. She knew he wasn't necessarily afraid of her-he was afraid now about his own ability to judge people now that he realized she had fooled him.

"Daryl," she whispered harshly, trying to get his attention. "Yes, I have let you believe all this time that I'm a frail, cowardly ninny. I needed you to believe that-otherwise Negan would have caught on to me. As long as he thought that too, I was safe from whatever whim he had that particular day. I've been biding my time until I could see an opportunity to both kill him and get away from here. When I saw you I realized I had my chance." Claire took a step toward Daryl and he stumbled back, avoiding her gaze now. She could see he was badly shaken. "I promise you when we get out of here, I'll tell you everything. Answer any question you have. And after that if you never want to see me again, I'll abide by your wishes. I promised you I wouldn't do anything to hurt you or put you in jeopardy. And I meant that. Just please trust me this one last time, so we can get out of here. Please." Claire watched Daryl carefully and in a minute he nodded slightly, still avoiding looking at her. "Okay, be ready to go after dinner. He likes to shower after he eats so he can be fresh for our fucking," Claire said, bitterness and disgust creeping into her voice. Daryl's head jerked up and he stared at her, the look on his face unreadable to her.

"Ya enjoy that part of this shit too?" he spat out. Jealousy and hurt played over his features.

Claire glared at him. "I said I'd killed someone, I didn't say I enjoyed that. And no matter what else I ever did I wasn't some whore going around fucking men randomly. I've done this because I had to in order to get out of here." She was gasping for breath, furious. "Or would you rather I had let him do whatever he wanted to you?" she hissed. Daryl flinched at both her words and her obvious anger. Claire advanced on him and before he could think to throw up an arm, she flung her hand and landed a ringing slap on his cheek. "No, I didn't think so. Don't you dare sit in judgment of me for what I've done," she cried, tears of anger falling on her cheeks now. As Daryl raised his hand in shock and surprise to his cheek, Claire turned on her heel and left the garden in silence.


End file.
